


Sliding Glass Door

by snoqualmie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, this is for kot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 10:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoqualmie/pseuds/snoqualmie
Summary: Tooru kisses him in a way that’s as unhurried and yielding as it always has been.





	Sliding Glass Door

**Author's Note:**

> i love u kot
> 
> uhh kind of beta'd. basically i got it beta'd and then rewrote like half of it so sorry for fuck ups.
> 
> i've had this sitting in my drafts for like two weeks so i felt like i should post it.

Rainy season is good. There’s something about the smell of wet concrete and the steady patter of rain against their window that makes Iwaizumi feel all different kinds of good in a way that he can’t really describe. When Tooru finally gets out of the shower, Iwaizumi is far too impatient to do something like shut the sliding glass door from where he’s been leaning out onto the tiny balcony, so he just turns on his heel and grabs Tooru up into his arms while he makes his way to the tiny kitchen.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru murmurs. “You forgot to close the door.”

“Yep,” Iwaizumi says, sliding his fingers down Tooru’s jaw. “C’mere.”

It’s annoying how perfectly Tooru’s mouth fits against his. He swallows the sigh Tooru lets out and spreads his hands across the small of his back, warm and soft from a shower that was probably too hot. He kisses Tooru until his breath catches on the way out of his nose and then Iwaizumi pulls away and leans their foreheads together.

“How was your shower?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Don’t just repeat me,” Tooru says. “What’s this about?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer so Tooru leans back into his chest and kisses him again, nice and slow. They should probably close the door because the last thing they need is for the floor to get wet, but Iwaizumi can’t find a single fuck to give. He can feel Tooru’s hands slipping up the back of his shirt, dragging across the small of his back.

Tooru relaxes more as they kiss. His shoulders come down, his heart picks up and beats fast and steady where they’re pressed together.

“I love you,” Iwaizumi says into Tooru’s mouth. Poor timing but it’s all he can think about.

“I know,” Tooru replies. His hand is warm on the side of Iwaizumi’s neck.

Iwaizumi isn’t sure how it happens but somewhere along the way Tooru presses too close for Iwaizumi to be able to stand and the two of them slide down to the apartment floor and settle into a puddle of long limbs. Tooru fits in his lap in a way that feels too perfect for it to be real. One of the hands in his hair disappears and a second later something heavy and soft is landing over top both of them. 

“The floor is hard,” Tooru says. “I don’t want bruises.”

“You’re a baby,” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes and helping Tooru spread the blanket out anyway.

“I don’t want bruises, Iwa-chan,” he reiterates. “At least not that kind of bruise.”

Iwaizumi just looks at him.

“It’s funny.”

“The wink was a lot,” Iwaizumi says.

Tooru just presses his mouth into a line, lower lip quivering pathetically as he tries not to laugh.

“You’re pretty.”

Tooru huffs and tries to cross his arms but the motion catches and he decides to wrap them back around Iwaizumi instead.

“You’re awful,” Tooru says, nodding. “Seriously, seriously awful.”

His fingers slide up into Iwaizumi’s hair while he complains, though, and soon enough he’s leaning back in and pressing their mouths together for another kiss that feels like it’s settling right between Iwaizumi’s lungs.

Tooru kisses him in a way that’s as unhurried and yielding as it always has been, slowing time down and pulling them into a place that only the two of them have ever been to. He pushes up into Iwaizumi’s space, tugs at the roots of his hair, sighs into his mouth like they’re kissing for the first time every time. Iwaizumi barely notices the way Tooru leans back until he’s being pulled down, too. Iwaizumi catches a knee to the gut on his way but it’s alright because Tooru is still kissing him. He doesn’t really stop kissing him until they absolutely have to and even then it’s only to shuffle out of their clothes and come right back to each other’s mouths. Iwaizumi actually folds his clothes and sets them off to the side where Tooru just chucks his over the couch because _of course he does._

The bastard just looks at him all smug when they pull away to breathe.

He looks so _amused_ despite the fact that his face is so red that it would be embarrassing if they were any younger and Iwaizumi is pretty sure that Tooru’s ruined him. He sits back on his elbows and looks up at Iwaizumi with those fucking ridiculous brown eyes and his stupidly nice eyebrows and the tent he’s pitching almost makes Iwaizumi’s mouth water and Iwaizumi realizes that he doesn’t ever want anything other than this. It’s absolutely overwhelming.

“I’m in love with you,” Iwaizumi says. It comes out in a rush of breath almost as all over the map as his thoughts.

“Good thing I’m in love with you, then, I guess,” is what he gets in response but then Tooru’s face softens and he’s reaching back up to cup Iwaizumi’s face and bring him in for another kiss.

Iwaizumi can’t be bothered by the response then. Tooru’s mouth is soft and warm and the column of his throat smells like his body wash and rosemary when Iwaizumi lays him down so he can mouth at it and pull soft noises from Tooru.

Iwaizumi’s brain is somewhere vaguely between hyper aware and floating as he makes his way down Tooru’s body, mouth catching on soft skin and it stays that way until he’s got the heft of one of Tooru’s legs on his shoulder and has to focus on other things. Better things, actually, like the weight of Tooru’s cock on his tongue and the noise that gasps out of him when Iwaizumi presses the cool tip of a finger against him. He’s not really sure where their lube is but they’re getting to the point where they need it right now because Iwaizumi wants to be inside of Tooru probably about half as much as Tooru wants Iwaizumi inside of him, which is still a lot. Like, so much. Like if Iwaizumi wasn't lying on a hardwood floor he’d probably be grinding down into it for at least a little bit of relief. 

“Where’s the lube?” Tooru gasps, fingers digging somehow harder into the roots of Iwaizumi’s hair.

Iwaizumi isn’t really sure how to respond with a dick in his mouth so he just hums an _I don’t know_ but Tooru’s shoulders jerk and he bows forward. When he speaks again his voice pitches into a whine.

“Where’s the _lube_ , Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi finds it. He uses a technique that's something like a whole lot of blindly smacking towards the low coffee table and catching the bottle as it tips to the side. Iwaizumi doesn’t know why it’s on the coffee table of the front room (he does) because it’s not like they’re voyeurists (they fucked on the balcony two mornings ago) or something like that.

But it’s fucking ridiculous how Tooru takes Iwaizumi’s fingers. He’s tight and warm and it shouldn’t be surprising how bad Iwaizumi wants to fuck him but it still just _is._ Iwaizumi could make him come like this. Easily. A couple of times, maybe, but then there’d be a refractory period and while those are definitely nice for a lazy sort of touching, Iwaizumi can feel in the air that neither of them are really up for that. 

Tooru’s hands are fisted into the sheets, eyes open wide and locked on Iwaizumi’s face.

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi can take a hint. It’s awful and terrible and Tooru shivers a little bit but Iwaizumi takes a second to lean back and think about where the hell they might have a condom in arm’s reach. His eyes land on his backpack against the corner of the couch and he goes to reach for it but Tooru’s hand flies out grabs his wrist.

“You don’t have to,” Tooru says. His fingers dig into Iwaizumi’s pulse and his eyes are heavy-lidded. His gaze falters when Iwaizumi’s jaw drops.

“Do you _want_ to?” he asks, eyebrows pulling low on his forehead.

“I don't want to,” Iwaizumi says, nodding quickly. “I mean, I want to. I _really_ want to.”

The whole condom idea goes out the window, no complaints from either party, but it’s not until he’s settled over Tooru, knees planted on that blanket that he realizes how fucked he is because it’s always so much better with nothing between them. His hand feels gross and sticky so he wipes it off on the blanket. Tooru opens his mouth like he’s going to complain about him wiping lube on their blanket but thinks better of it and reaches up to cup Iwaizumi’s face and pull him down.

Iwaizumi takes a slow breath against the side of Tooru’s shoulder, relishes the dull pain where Tooru’s heels are digging painfully into his back as he presses the head of his cock against Tooru.

“Oh, fuck,” Tooru groans. “Oh, _fuck.”_

Iwaizumi isn’t even inside of Tooru and he’s already shaking, chest heaving. The rain has picked up outside into something heavy and loud. 

Iwaizumi’s throat closes up and when he pushes in because it’s slow and careful and it’s still too much. Tooru is everything he’s ever needed. Tight heat and soft skin and _Tooru._ It’s not until he’s seated to the base of his cock that he realizes he hasn’t been breathing and has to gasp for air.

“Oh, fuck,” Tooru repeats, arching into Iwaizumi. “Fuck me, fuck me.”

“Hold on,” Iwaizumi says, nuzzling the side of his face. The hair at his temples is damp with sweat and Iwaizumi inhales against it. He’s so _hot._

“Please,” Tooro whines. His legs tighten around Iwaizumi and his hips come up off the blanket. “I want it so bad.”

“Hold on,” Iwaizumi says again, clenching his jaw. “I can’t breathe.”

Iwaizumi takes another deep breath and focuses on the sound of the rain on the balcony, the patter of it against the sliding glass door.

“ _Fuck_ me,” Tooru whines, voice cracking. Iwaizumi groans and nods, pressing his forehead against Tooru’s shoulder. He pulls his hips back and Tooru’s shoulders curl in. When Iwaizumi pushes his hips forward Tooru’s back bows, a throaty noise ripping out of him. 

“Hard,” Tooru gasps and Iwaizumi wants to open his eyes, see the look on Tooru’s face but he can’t.

He’s already too close; he feels like a Goddamn teenager again. Tooru rocks his hips, squirms and lets out a broken noise that shouldn’t even be legal. Iwaizumi shudders and balls his hands into fists against the cool hardwood floor, pulls his hips back slow and careful before snapping them forward again. It jerks Tooru up and then he whines when there’s an awful squeaking noise that must be his skin against the hardwood.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi grunts.

“Fuck you,” Tooru gasps, fingers pressing against the back of Iwaizumi’s neck. “Fuck _me._ ”

Iwaizumi does as he’s told, fast and hard and deep like they haven’t fucked for months, like they’re on a deadline. Tooru’s hands slide down and end up burning hot against his sides, caught somewhere between shoving at him and pulling him closer. 

Iwaizumi feels this tension in his shoulders that finds its way all the way to his forearms. It’s this ache like he wants to fucking climb inside of Tooru and never leave, he wants everything. Tooru’s fingers squeeze his hips, drag back up his sides and find his jaw again. When they kiss it’s not a proper sort of kiss. It almost is but Tooru’s breath comes in pants and Iwaizumi’s keeps catching on it's way out.

He manages to grunt out another c’mere and Tooru pushes up as well he can before Iwaizumi’s patience cuts itself short and he grabs Tooru by the bicep and move them around. Pulling out is fucking awful but watching Tooru settle down on his knees and press his forehead into the blanket makes it a whole lot better. Iwaizumi can't fucking help himself and he palms Tooru’s ass, spreads him open like the centerfold of a raunchy magazine and takes a long moment to just admire. When he pushes two fingers into Tooru his breath hitches in a way that makes Iwaizumi’s gut knot up.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles His voice barely sounds familiar. “So tight.”

“You’re terrible,” Tooru snaps. “Put it back in.”

When Iwaizumi pushes back in it’s slow and careful. He lets Tooru push his back into a deeper arch with a whine and slide his knees slide further apart. His brain kind of short-circuits when Tooru grinds back against him and he huffs a heavy breath, wrapping his fingers tight around Tooru’s hips and fucking into him as hard as he damn well pleases. He knows Tooru can take it. He always has. He takes it like he was fucking made to take it.

“I was,” Tooru mumbles and Iwaizumi would’ve startled if he wasn’t aware that sometimes his internal monologue isn't so internal.

“I know.”

Tooru’s shoulders come up as Iwaizumi fucks him and it’s not until he lets out a sound that sounds very much so like a sob that Iwaizumi realizes how close he is.

“Iwa-chan,” he whimpers into the blanket.”I’m gonna—”

“I know,” Iwaizumi says again, digging his fingers into Tooru’s hips.

He feels tense all over. It’s like he isn’t close enough to Tooru and wants to be closer, wants to climb inside of him or something. He can feel the ache in his thighs and the prickle of heat across the back of his neck and he can feel Tooru’s legs shaking and then Tooru’s shuddering out a gasp and tensing and coming hard enough that his breathing chokes off. Iwaizumi has to hold him so he doesn’t collapse as he shakes through his orgasm.

Tooru goes a little noodle-y in the wake of his orgasm, slumping down onto his belly with his ass up so Iwaizumi can keep fucking into him because of course, because Tooru isn’t happy until he’s nearly passing out. It’s not new but still sort of tugs at Iwaizumi’s lungs like it’s the first time. Iwaizumi can feel his orgasm in the pounding of his heart, the rush of blood in his ears and he’s considerate so at the very last second he pulls out and it takes one half-complaining whine from Tooru and a look tossed over his shoulder while he jerks himself off to send him over the edge.

If Tooru was capable of more than guttural noises he would say something along the lines of _pervy Iwa-chan, loving something like this_ but Tooru’s back is a beautiful curve and now it’s prettier, really, with stripes of Iwaizumi’s come on it.

Iwaizumi wheezes a breath and lets himself tip backwards and plop onto his ass. It doesn’t really feel good, what with the hardwood flooring but now he’s sleepy and has a nice view so he figures he might as well enjoy it before Tooru comes to his senses and realizes that he’s probably going to have to shower all over again because of Iwaizumi’s handiwork.

Tooru lets out a heavy, content sigh and slumps into the blanket.

Iwaizumi figures that it’s worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> kill me


End file.
